A/N: This has been knocking around on my computer for a good few months, ever since I finished a Brosca Origins play through in fact. Usually I add a few lines when I'm in the mood (I'm terrible and setting goals on when to get things finished!) and I finally felt like there was enough to put into a first chapter. I hope someone will enjoy the story of young Aerin.
- Aeyrin (Am I using too many variants on the name 'Erin'?... Nahhh. Maybe. I'm pretty sure I squeeze them out according to the race. Maybe I should do an elf version. Ayryn? Eyren?... I'll stop.)
Chapter 1
Aerin decided she liked these 'forests'. They reminded her of home, despite home having neither foliage nor rivers – none that she had seen, that is. Of course there were small streams of fresh water in Orzammar, purified as they seeped into the otherwise closed off city, but nothing as magnificent as the rushing waters which flowed through the trees, cutting a white-blue path between the green. The tops of the trees winded together creating a canopy similar to a rocky ceiling. Comforting, Aerin thought as her short legs trudged through the dense forest's mud path with her companions. The world smelt different up here; the air was sweet and wet with no dust or sand to fill Aerin's nostrils. At first the sweetness had been sickly and the damp air had drowned her lungs, though the first light of the surface was remembered only as a blur, as if it was happening to a newly born babe brought into a new world. I'm being given a second chance, the young dwarven girl though, the Ancestors must be smiling on me… I didn't think they even knew I was alive.
There was a loud clank and cluttering from behind as one Aerin's companions tripped over a thick root that looped itself out from underground before sinking back into the hard soil. He cursed his human prophet as he detangled his foot while the dark haired witch, who also was accompanying the group, smirked with her painted lips.
"Defeated by a root. 'Tis good you also face darkspawn, as tales about battles with shrubbery are not well recorded by the bards."
"It was a very wily root." Alistair replied as he pushed himself back to his feet with a slight redness colouring his cheeks. He often seemed as if he was a young boy though he must have been four or five years Aerin's senior if her judgement on human age was correct. He had no beard which truly baffled Aerin. Duncan, the first human she had laid eyes on, had decent facial hair so naturally she'd assumed all humans followed suit just like her own people. It wasn't long before she realised this wasn't the case as even the older human men who could easily grow a handsome beard chose to trim it away and leave their lumpy human chins exposed. She had even seen human men of her age who she doubted could grow one measly whisker. Baffling.
"Does anyone have a clue if we're going in the right direction?" She asked, stopping suddenly and spinning around to face her new comrades. Alistair's eyes flicked over to the dark haired witch, the gentle faced archer and strangely enough, even to the dog as if their new canine friend would be able to bark them towards the correct path. Leliana put her hand to her brow and theatrically looked between the trees, though Aerin suspected she was only doing so to seem helpful. Morrigan just folded her arms and grumbled something about her advice being ignored enough times already. That was true. In an attempt to seem clever and diplomatic Aerin had started taking suggestions from her companions in turn, which meant she'd only listen to the witch after a certain number of ideas were presented. Aerin would have realised that it was an awful plan sooner if she actually was clever and diplomatic. The suggestion rota was finally abolished when it dictated that Alistair's counsel on food preparation was to be heeded. The party member's stomachs were still suffering from that one.
"So… we're just walking about aimlessly?" Aerin asked, with her broad hands on her hips, looking at each of her companions searchingly. There was a short silence before Alistair answered.
"Er… well oh mighty leader, I think we were just following you," Aerin's face started to reddened as she watched Leliana give a little nod in agreement and Morrigan roll her eyes. Even the dog looked embarrassed for her. Alistair gave a chuckle. "You did know that right? Right? Oh maker, you're worse than me!"
"…Of course I knew that," the awkward dwarf girl replied carefully. "I just wanted to… make sure, nobody, that… somebody knew…" her muddled words were all of a sudden cut short as a loud howl came from between the trees on her left hand side. "Thank the ancestors," Aerin muttered under her breath, "Come on!" she pulled her weapons from their rest on both of her hips and did a small jog up a hill towards where the convenient interruption had sounded. Behind her she could hear the rattle of mail and shuffle of feet following. The dwarf girl reached the top of the slope with a slightly heavier breathing pattern and was about to make a remark on how much easier it must be for her gangly human companions to climb when the air was unexpectedly knocked out of her by a furry grey form, sending her flying backwards.
For a moment her vision went white as she struggled to sit up - she was violently slammed down again. That knocked sense back into her: she could make out a the shape of a large grey werewolf darkening the sky above her as it's back foot stood on her chest, digging it's claws into the leather cuirass beneath it. Aerin's hands flailed about in the dirt either side of her, desperately seeking either of her weapons. Her gloved fingers connected with the sharp end of her hand axe and she clutched the base of the blade in one hand and flipped the handle into the other, shoving it upwards, directly into the open jaws of the beast that had her pinned to the dirt. The monster snapped it's mouth furiously, it's front teeth only a stumpy dwarven finger away from her nose as Aerin frantically wrestled to push it off. Neither to her right nor left could she see any of her companions but the glance to either side wasn't in vain as she caught sight of her wrestling partner's massive paw draw back to build up for a swing at her face.
Aerin waited for the swipe. As the set of claws came racing towards the side of her head she rolled towards them, using the axe in the werewolf's jaws to push the beast onto it's back, flipping their situation. A small dwarf girl pinning a beast twice her size didn't have the same effect as the reverse however. Teeth lodged in the wooden handle of the axe, the monster knocked Aerin away without a weapon and thrashed itself onto all fours looking supremely angry. A werewolf with an axe for a mouth, Aerin thought to herself, oh piss.
She was half asking for forgiveness from the ancestors for cutting holes in the backside of all of Leske's pants that one time and half hoping she not die without finding out what the hell an Antivan Twister was, when an almighty saviour came in the form of a dog shaped battering ram. The two beasts tumbled backwards, far enough for Aerin to spot her mace on the ground. She darted towards it, grabbing the handle firmly and spinning into a combat stance. The beast had it's back to her now, closing in on it's new Mabari target, giving Aerin time to put all the force she could muster into a powerful swing that connected with the creature on the spine, just above it's tail. It let out a pained roar towards the sky before turning round to face his dwarven nemesis, bringing it's paw around for another swipe at her head, one that she delicately danced back from this time. Feeling her confidence rising as her rhythm returned she stepped forward and gave her mace another swing, this time cracking the werewolf in the jaw; it let out a strained whimper. Aerin was about to repeat her bludgeoning attack when three arrows appeared almost simultaneously in the wolf's chest. The creature went still for a few seconds before staggering two weak steps on it's hind legs in. One final clumsy swipe in Aerin's general direction and the beast fell to the ground.
"Well, that was exciting!" Aerin announced to Leliana loudly. "I've never tangled with anything so big." Her eyes were fixed on the huge jaws which had been so close to her face a few minutes ago. Her axe was still lodged in the back of it's mouth, covered in blood and salvia.
The familiar clink of plate and mail sounded the return of Morrigan and Alistair, both of whom looked a fatigued but otherwise unharmed.
"You're not dead," Morrigan nodded. "Good." Aerin snorted and looked at the witch, the warrior and the archer in turn.
"So, mind if I ask where you were when I was getting cuddles from the giant wolf monster?"
"We were fighting trees," Alistair replied, smirking proudly. "Roaring, rooting, angry trees." Aerin bit her lip, wondering whether it was a joke she didn't get or if she was being made fun of. The witch noticed her expression and elaborated.
"They were possessed trees. 'Tis not unheard of for spirits to enter a vessel other than a human or elf, after all."
"That's unfair!" Aerin finally sighed, wriggling her chewed axe out of the mouth of her fallen foe. "I want to fight trees…" her lips curled upwards as she wiped the wolf drool of her axe on a patch of grass. "Then, maybe bards will sing songs of my battles with shrubbery." Morrigan groaned and turned away from the other party members as Alistair grinned at Aerin.
"Oh, then I'll make sure to write something down about today when we're back at camp..." Leliana said, though mainly to herself. The Chantry sister hadn't talked very much since joining the dwarf, the templar, the witch and the giant (plus their dog) back in Lothering. Aerin had at first protested the idea of her coming along; she was suborn and prideful when it came to accepting help. When the dwarf girl first left the Deep Roads with Duncan and his respectable beard she had imagined that it would be just the two of them, for a at least a little while anyway, and had therefore been disappointed when they reached the surface and Duncan called over two more Wardens who had been waiting at the grand gates of Orzammar, amongst the tents of the vendors. The surface had still been a dizzy blur when introductions were given and when a baby faced man shook her hand and had said, "Ferdinand Arval, son of Bann Samuel Arval. I have shed my noble skin to march against the Darkspawn and wipe them from the face of Thedas," Aerin had replied by vomiting on his boots.
He hadn't spoken to her much after that, nor did the other Warden who joined them on the surface. She didn't mind in the slightest. It wasn't as if she disliked humans; she had always had trouble with anyone she didn't know, no matter their height. Anyone who had a caste spat in her face and everyone else who didn't would try and smash her head in for the one or two bits in her pocket. Life had gotten better when she joined the Carta. Glares and insults were more common than being spat on, and casteless thugs would usually stay out of her way than risk angering Beraht by killing an employee of his. Yes, life had gotten better after the Carta, but it was just as lonely. Leske's face suddenly jumped in Aerin's mind, and she smiled. Her friend – he was like a brother.
"Alistair?" The dwarf asked as the party continued through the Brecilian Forest. The others had fallen into step behind Aerin without her notice. It was an odd feeling being the leader. The human warrior was trudging along to her right hand side, close enough for her to glance up at him. "You said we had a treaty in Orzammar?" She placed her hand over the top of her eyes to keep the sun from blinding her as she turned her head up to look at her companion.
"We sure do. Why? Homesick already?" he replied smiling down at her, half teasing, half genuine query. Aerin remembered the first time she'd met her new comrade. She'd been reluctant to let him follow her about the army camp but as they chatted while walking around Ostagar, it turned out she didn't mind so much. Alistair had laughed when she'd told him about heaving the contents of her stomach onto his fellow Grey Warden's feet and Aerin remembered that she had thought he had a nice face (if a bit whiskerless), before reprimanding herself and conjuring a real looker in her mind. She'd thought of Barring Bzak, a member of the smith caste who had even once looked at her with only slight disgust. She'd first saw him when she was only fifteen, while he was hammering a sword. She'd noticed how much stronger his right arm looked in comparison with his left. For weeks she'd made up stories in her head about how he was in love with her, and that when she had his son they'd all live in his parent's big house next to the forge. Her silly dreams weren't helped by Rica who told Aerin that every time a boy called her something mean, it meant they secretly liked her. By that logic it meant everyone in Orzammar wanted to court the average looking casteless girl, but logic was never very important to Aerin. Her sister had always had a talent for making people feel special.
"A little bit," Aerin found herself mumbling, now looking down at her feet as she walked. "I miss my sister… and my friend."
"I'll remind you that Redcliffe is closer than Orzammar, Warden. It would be much more practical to head there first, assuming this Eamon is a shining example of a man who'll lend us his armies with no trouble and Alistair's take on him isn't clouded by a futile need for a father figure," Morrigan answered instead of the young warrior, exercising any chance she had to bait him. At first he had heatedly defended himself until he had started noticing her enjoyment during his protests. He settled for an icy glare as she continued, "You probably should accept that you won't see you family or friend for quite some time."
"Sensitive as always, Morrigan," The Orlesian archer commented, her accent coloured with disapproval. "I'm sure you'll see them soon." She added sympathetically.
"It's fine, I bet they're doing great anyway," Aerin lied, "We should hurry up and find Witherfang… I wonder how Sten is doing back at the Dalish camp. Think he's made any friends yet?" A few smirks were shared at that idea as the three humans, dwarf and war dog continued to trek further into the forest.